


America's Junk Drawer

by WhiskeyAdams



Series: America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow [3]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyAdams/pseuds/WhiskeyAdams
Summary: Part III of the America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow AU. Set three years after Library of Crazy, our team now officially works for the Warehouse, and they are growing up. Just as they are growing comfortable in their roles, new challenges arise when an old friend comes back into their lives, turning everything upside down.
Relationships: Myka Bering/Helena "H. G." Wells
Series: America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/70905
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Truth Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second attempt at writing a third part for this series. I was quite obviously #GoingThroughIt when I tried to continue it in the past. So this is my do-over, hopefully I can do it justice now. Enjoy. W.A.

_It's the children the world almost breaks who grow up to save it.”_  
― **Frank Warren**

Myka shifted in her chair once more, searching for a comfortable way to sit. It felt as if the large plush chair was trying to swallow her whole, and she couldn’t stop herself from moving restlessly under the gaze of the older gentleman sitting across from her. He studied her carefully as she jiggled her foot and tapped her fingers in a quick repeating pattern. He didn’t speak, only stared critically as his hand continued to move over a notebook page Myka couldn’t quite see.

The room was freezing, the quiet hum of an air conditioner working overtime the only relief in the stifling silence. Myka had shed her coat upon entering the sparse office, so there was nothing to hide the Goosebumps that erupted and spread over her arms. The dim lighting in the small room kept her from getting a good look at any of the paintings on the wall, or any of the books on the shelves. Her eyes were forced to wander back to the therapist no matter how badly she wanted to tear them away.

An absurdly loud ticking noise emanated from a rather small clock on the row of shelves to Myka’s left, and it was a few seconds away from driving her mad. She couldn’t let herself be the one to break the silence, though. She clenched her teeth against the tumult of words threatening to spill past her lips as she looked up once more.

Given no other option, Myka decided to profile the man. Dr. Jack Wahrheit was in his late fifties, his white hair held no trace of its original color. He wore thick lenses situated in wide black frames. His face was well lined, though clean shaven. He wore an argyle sweater vest over a neatly pressed white shirt. Myka could see a faint line on one of his fingers that professed a long marriage, now probably ended.

The doctor noticed Myka’s scrutiny, but his only response was to purse his lips and hum quietly to himself before writing more on his notepad. So far, Myka hadn’t said two words to the man, and yet he had filled at least three sheets with his ceaseless writing.

“Hm,” Dr. Wahrheit, gave Myka a curious look before setting his pen down briefly, “Alright, Ms. Bering, I don’t think you paid to sit in my office in silence. So, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, hm?”

“I’ve been feeling nervous, lately,” Finally speaking came as a relief, but Myka had to work to not reveal more than she had to, but it was difficult under his careful perception, “Not exactly nervous, but… I don’t know off-kilter somehow?”

“Can you explain what you mean when you say off-kilter?” the doctor tilted his head as his hand, seemingly under a will of its own, picked up the pen and began writing once more.

“Like the world is not in order. It almost feels like I shouldn’t be where I am.” Myka chewed on her lip, tasting blood as she avoided eye contact with Wahrheit, “I think the world, or fate or whatever has made a mistake somewhere.”

“Can you tell me something that you believe is a mistake made by the universe?” he challenged.

“Well, let’s see, I’m dating a woman who is so gorgeous, it’s intimidating. Not to mention the fact that she is absolutely brilliant. She’s finishing up her doctorate in engineering. I mean, I have my own degree, but I never thought I would feel like the idiot in the relationship. As if that wasn’t enough, she’s absolutely loaded. And it’s not because she’s a trust fund kid or some such nonsense. No, she’s making thousands of dollars a day off of inventions that she just created on a whim. It’s just…” Myka trailed off, she watched her finger as it traced over the patterns of the couch.

“Intimidating?” The man sitting opposite her supplied with a small, grandfatherly smile, “And you feel that the world has made the mistake of creating this relationship?”

Myka bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, “I can’t help but feel inferior to everything she does. And, even worse, that at any minute she’s going to realize that I’m just… me. Working a government job that barely pays for my room at this little bed and breakfast, with absolutely nothing to offer her. And I know there are all these guys and girls just waiting for her to come to her senses and ditch the nerd. I always find myself thinking that if it weren’t for her kid…” Myka trailed off with a pained expression on her face, her eyebrows scrunching together.

“Your girlfriend has a child?” Dr. Wahrheit was quick to seize on that bit, “From a previous relationship?” he tapped his pen thoughtfully, matching the rhythm Myka herself had created before writing something once again, “How old are they?”

“Seven… well, she’ll be eight this summer.” Myka corrected herself automatically. She could practically hear Christina’s insistence that seven and three quarters was practically eight, and therefore she deserved a later bed time.

“And is the father involved in the child’s life?” The therapist crossed his legs as he leaned back in his seat. He continued to watch Myka’s expressions carefully over the rim of his glasses.

“Yes.” She bit out between tightly clenched teeth before she forced a small smile.

“Does it bother you?” he pushed, leaning forward, “To have this other paternal figure vying for the child’s love and respect?”

“Not as much as it used to,” Myka began tapping more intentionally as she tried to hold on to her emotions, “Besides, Nate is only in our lives when it’s convenient for him.”

“Let’s get back to you,” He made a show of clearing his throat loudly as he adjusted himself once more, “What is it that you do for a living? You said you had a government job, correct?”

“I’m an assets collector,” Myka’s fist was a tight knot in her lap. She lifted her gaze to the window, staring at the over cast skies that had given the whole town a gloomy feel, “It takes me away from home for days at a time. I’m gone once a week, if not more.”

“Do you think your job is a contributing factor to the strain on your relationship with your girlfriend?” his watery brown eyes squinted at Myka.

“It certainly has caused some strife in the past.” She mumbled, pulling on the ends of her hair.

“Just how long have you and your girlfriend been together, Ms. Bering?” He flipped almost carelessly through his pages of notes, scanning them quickly while he waited for the answer.

“Three and a half years,” Myka felt her first genuine smile crack across her face before she could stop it, “And we’ve been living together nearly the entire time.”

“You two have bought a house together then?” he nodded and began writing once more.

“Yes,” Myka nodded, then shrugged one shoulder, “Well no. I moved into her apartment when we were in college. That was before we moved out here for work. But it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was right across the way from my own apartment.”

“So, you gave up your apartment to live in hers. That’s interesting,” he nodded, “and this bed and breakfast you spoke of, I assume you two share a room?”

“Yeah,” She tried, but there was a sharp tug in her throat that had Myka correcting herself once again, “Well, no, we each have our own rooms, for personal space and room to work. We usually stay in each other’s room at night, though.”

“I see, and is that your room or hers that you tend to share most often?” the therapist crossed his arms over his chest. He knew the answer, damn him, but he wanted to hear Myka say it.

“Hers.” Her voice was quiet, begrudging. She hadn’t ever thought much on it before, but now this damnably perceptive old man was forcing her to confront some uncomfortable facts.

“Ms. Bering,” He removed his glasses with a flourish, “How is your relationship with your family?” he switched topics without preamble.

“It’s okay, now.” Myka nodded, relieved at an easy answer.

“Now? Was it not always?” he leaned forward in his seat, searching.

“No,” She felt her face grow hot, and she forced herself to appear nonchalant, “My mom and I had some trouble for a little while when I first started dating Helena. She had a vison of who she wanted me to be, and I had fallen short. My dad and I haven’t always had the easiest relationship, but we found a common ground in literature. They always seemed to get along better with my little sister.”

“So, you’re saying she always had the support you felt you lacked. And just how is your _little_ sister fairing these days?” the therapist quirked his eyebrow, hiding his smirk beneath a thoughtful hand.

“Tracy’s doing great. She has a little girl, Clair. She’s turning three in June. Her and her husband have just bought a house in Port Townsend. I was supposed to fly out to see them, but between my job and my own family, there just hasn’t been time.” Myka found herself trailing off once more.

“Forgive me, Ms. Bering, but it sounds to me like you’re jealous of your sister.” he crossed his arms.

“What? No,” Myka put her hands up, “I’m not jealous of my sister. I mean, sure, she’s in a committed relationship with someone she loves, and she has a beautiful baby girl and a new house, but I have those same things. And I’m _happy_ for Tracy. I’m happy for _everyone_ in my life.”

“Your friends have fared well, I take it?”

“I suppose,” Myka allowed as she focused for a moment on the laces of her boots, “My best friend, Pete, and his girlfriend beaten the odds and made the whole long distance relationship thing work. They both travel for work and can see each other a few days out of the month. It’s hard, but I can tell they are happy. Claudia, who has always been too smart for her own good, she finally has a constructive outlet for her talent. And she’s getting a chance to reconnect with her long-lost brother. I think that’s been going really well for her… And don’t get me started on Steve. He’s been having this on again off again relationship with a doctor from his home town.” Myka cut herself off with a nervous chuckle, “But, yeah. Everyone has been slowly growing up into real adults.”

“Do you think they are growing up, or more accurately, moving forward in their lives without you?” He pulled a pocket watch out of the folds of his clothes and stared at it’s moving face for a long moment, “Is that why you feel out of place in the world? Everyone is out there moving on, and you feel stuck in the same spot?”

Myka opened her mouth, and then snapped it shut. Her teeth ground together for a moment before she took a breath and tried again, “I don’t know how to move on to bigger and better things when everyone else seems to be passing me by. I don’t want to wake up and find out everyone has changed and I’m still that nervous college kid waiting for a chance to speak up.”

“You’re only 25, Ms. Bering. There’s more than enough time.” He took a laborious breath, “But not today. In fact, our time is just about up, so I’m going to be blunt,” he dropped his notepad onto the coffee table, “This fear of abandonment and feelings of inadequacy you have stem from you allowing yourself to be put in relationships where you can be perceived as the lesser individual. My advice to you is to step up, demand more for yourself, otherwise, cut yourself out of these relationships. After all, you shouldn’t allow yourself to be with someone who always makes you feel bad about yourself.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” Myka rose from the couch, forcing herself to not run out of the room as fast as possible, she stuck her hand out, “Thank you, Dr. Wahrheit, I think you are going to be a much better therapist for me than my usual doctor.” The words stuck in her throat, and she fought the urge to choke them back by biting her lips.

He accepted her handshake with a warm smile, “You’ll make your next appointment with my assistant then? I think once a week will be best while we get to the root of this. Remember, honesty is what will get you out of this rut. Being honest with yourself is the first step you must take.”

Myka nodded, “Yep, thanks Doc.”

She turned and practically marched out of his office, then out of the building, not bothering to stop at the assistant’s desk. It took all of her focus as she moved one foot in front of the other, the anxiety threatened to bubble up out of her mouth.

Myka turned her collar against the lightly falling rain and shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets. Her hand gripped tight around the small, circular object she found there. She breathed in the scents of warm, wet cement and continued to walk. She was halfway down the block when a tall man stepped out of the shadows and fell in to step beside her.

“So?” Pete drew out the word as he ducked his head to catch Myka’s eye.

She pushed a wet curl out of her face and blinked up at him, “Well, the artifact’s definitely in there… I had to get creative with my truth telling.” The taste of lies and half-truths was still thick on her tongue. And she could still feel the heavy presence bearing down on her, trying to compel her to speak.

“So, what’s the plan? Wait until he goes to lunch before we go back in and search the place?” Pete suggested as he tried to puzzle out the feeling he was getting from his partner.

“Yeah, let’s check in with home while we wait. Let them know our target is definitely the town shrink. Maybe Artie will have an idea of what we should be looking for.”

_____

“Damn it!” Helena jerked back from the machine as it sparked, earning herself a smack on the back of her head from the propped open panel.

The annoying buzzing sound that came from behind her had caused her to touch the wrong wires together, and she had half a mind to emotionally ruin whomever had rung her on the Farnsworth. She purposely ignored the fact that all the wires were the same grey color, and she most likely would have touched the two wrong ones together in any case. On some level, she knew she was being too irrational. But she was deeply invested in her little project.

Helena threw the pliers down into her tool bag before grabbing the communications device off the stool. She glanced around before she sighed and gave into her paranoia. She quickly walked a few aisles down the Warehouse before she flipped open the Farnsworth.

“Helena,” Myka’s grainy, black and white face appeared in the circular screen, a wide smile on her face.

All her anger at being interrupted evaporated at once, and in its place was left a giddy happiness that always emerged when she saw Myka. She hadn’t seen her girlfriend in two days, and each phone call they’d had since she left to Washington for an artifact hunt seemed to be cut short by some disaster or other.

“Myka,” Just sating her name caused a wide smile to spread over HG’s face, and she removed the goggles from her face, “Darling, how are you?”

“According to my therapist, I have abandonment issues,” Myka smirked, “Oh and I feel inadequate because my girlfriend is a genius millionaire.”

“Oh? And did you mention that you are a best-selling author yourself?” Helena laughed quietly.

“No, I guess that just slipped my mind,” Myka gave a dramatic sigh, “Maybe I should see a therapist.”

“I know a few,” Helena offered with a smile, glancing quickly in the direction of the front office, as if the mere mention of one of the other Warehouse employees would cause them to appear.

“Nah, it’s all psychobabble bullshit,” Myka waved her off, “How are things going back home?”

“As well as can be expected,” Helena rolled her eyes, “Arthur is driving me up the wall, my partner is brooding over his latest cold front with Dr. Grant, Claudia is getting in trouble with the NSA for hacking some files ‘just to see if she could do it,’ and I swear I am going to need to get a harness and lead for Christina if I ever want to bring her to the Warehouse again.”

Myka chuckled, “I’m sorry, love. We should be wrapping up this case soon, but until I get home, ask Vanessa to distract Artie, tell Steve to take the weekend to see his boyfriend, ask Claudia to help you on whatever mysterious project you’re working on now, and maybe do consider a leash for your daughter.”

“Why is it that she’s _my_ daughter when she’s misbehaving?” Helena challenged, but her smile was bright. Talking to Myka always did have that effect on her. She expected it to lessen as the years passed, but it instead, her affection for the American only seemed to grow.

“Because she’s only misbehaving when she’s pretending to be like her mum.” Myka shot back, but a word from Pete that Helena couldn’t really decipher had her expression falling, “Pete’s just got done talking to Claudia and catching Artie up, I’ve got to go.”

“Alright, be safe, my love.” Helena plead.

“Try not blow up anything we can’t replace.” Myka replied with a smile before the screen went dark.

Helena let out a heavy sigh as she closed the Farnsworth with a snap. She took her time strolling back to the aisle of the Warehouse that she had discovered a few months before while on inventory duty.

It had been a punishment from Artie for some grievance HG had already forgotten. But it had led to an astounding gift from the Warehouse.

This particular aisle, among others HG was now certain, hadn’t been on any map or report. She wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t find the time to care. It meant no one would think to search here for her. At first, Helena had dived head first into the project it presented because, as she came to the end of her schooling, Helena felt less challenged. She had stalled in the creative department, but after reading notebooks filled with musings and searching through the still sealed crates, HG was obsessed.

She knew she wasn’t meant to find this aisle. It was hidden in a forgotten corner and left to the dust. But the Warehouse had led her there none the less, and something inside Helena had awoken. A fire in her heart and a hundred possibilities.

It was taking all Helena had to keep this little pet project of hers hidden, even from Myka. She justified with telling herself that since Myka never asked what project was working on, she wasn’t technically lying when keeping this from her. But it was hard. Out of all the people in her life, she knew Myka would appreciate this little discovery of hers the most.

Helena felt she needed more time alone with it first before she could tell her. It didn’t feel like the right time quite yet. She wasn’t ready to show off what she had done with the pieces left for her. She knew this line of reasoning was irrational, and couldn’t continue for much longer. She was hitting more and more dead ends of late. She would need help to see her project to completion.

For now, though, she accepted her need for secrecy as she threw a tarp over her Frankensteined machine and made her way back up the aisles, a skip in her step.


	2. Small Town "Charm"

Pete and Myka had been working the case for two days. They had flown out when things started to get… weird for the townsfolk. The once idyllic little town had slowly descended into chaos. Fights that teetered on the edge of riots broke out daily. Neighbors and spouses, friends and co-workers, all reacted violently to each other. Even the police had been struck by the madness swallowing their charges whole, rendering them useless to assist on the number of domestic disturbances they had been called in on.

Over the course of their investigation, it had become clear to the two agents what the root cause was: people had begun to tell the truth. Suddenly, old affairs had come to light, friendships lay in ruins, and fights erupted everywhere. All because people were now cursed with the inability to lie.

Once the symptoms were described to Arthur, he knew immediately what was to blame: Abraham Lincoln’s pocket watch. It had the double-edged effect of forcing honesty out of whoever spoke with the watch’s owner. It seemed that the longer the exposure, the more people were compelled to spout honesty with no filter left to protect them.

It took a few hours of pounding the pavement to trace the victims back to their one common thread. Dr. Wahrheit was one of the only the local therapists, and he handled everything from couple’s therapy to anger management. And he had been active and outgoing in his community. His patients, neighbors, friends, the local grocery store clerk… everyone he spoke to had become radically honest.

He didn’t seem to be aware of the turmoil he was causing, and even less aware that his intervention into the new drama was making it worse.

Myka had only been with him for an hour, and she spent most of that time in a stubborn silence, but even she had clearly been affected. As soon as she was comfortable with Pete, she couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts and feelings that poured out of her mouth.

It was funny for Pete, at first. Myka’s usual closed off demeanor had hidden a few humorous, benign secret thoughts. It was difficult for him not to use his oldest friend’s sudden honesty for a laugh as they searched the town for the aloof therapist. However, it wasn’t long before he found the motivation to bag and tag the artifact as soon as possible.

“Wow, honest you is kind of bitter.” Pete rolled his eyes as they pulled up to the diner Jack Wahrheit was known to frequent.

“I’m sorry I can’t be like you, all rainbows and sunshine!” Myka snapped, “God, I don’t know how Amanda can stand to be around you…” she mumbled before she could stop herself.

She didn’t truly feel that way, it was only a quick, errant thought that passed through her head in frustration, but she couldn’t stop it from tumbling past her lips. Myka’s irritation was in being whammied with an artifact that took away the control she had over her own body. Pete didn’t seem to see the invasion for what it was, only seeing the comedy.

“Wait, really? Because, you know,” He stopped her before they entered, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his shoe scuffed the pavement, “I actually wanted to talk to you about something before. Because you’re my best friend and you have known me for longer than anyone else and I trust your opinion…”

“You’re rambling, Pete,” Myka spun her wrist in a hurry up motion, “Come on, I want to be done with this curiosity as quickly as possible, so spit it out.”

“I was planning on asking Amanda to marry me,” Pete’s face was suddenly beet red as his words came out in a rush, “Do you think it’s a good idea? Do you think she’ll say yes?”

“Oh, that’s just fantastic!” Myka threw her hands up in misdirected anger, “Who else is getting married in my life? Don’t tell me, Steve and Dr. Hotpants are next right? Then it’ll be Artie and Vanessa! And you and Amanda are, what, gonna do the whole white picket fence, dog and two-point-five kids? Live happily ever after? How bloody wonderful for you!”

“You sound like HG when you get angry.” Pete pointed out.

“Don’t get me started on her!” Myka snapped, but her eyes were pleading Pete to _really_ not bring up her girlfriend, not while she was in this state, “Please, Pete.”

“Okay, okay,” He tried to sooth her, “But, if you can’t lie, did you really mean what you said?”

“Yes, I am thrilled for you, Pete, and I love you both, but I would love to not feel like this anymore, so can we please hurry?” she begged, though her tone was till teetering on irritated.

Pete nodded, “Yeah,” he sounded like he was pouting, but he opened the door for Myka anyway.

They were pulled to a stop immediately as they surveyed the pandemonium around them.

“I think we have the right place.” Pete mumbled as they were engulfed by the sound of yelling, sobbing, dishes breaking, and what sounded like angry Russian cursing.

In the middle of the confusion stood Wahrheit, looking incredibly concerned. His arms were splayed out to either side, trying to keep two groups from colliding. He was trying to stay rational and calm, but he only seemed to be exacerbating the situation.

Pete rushed towards him. He was forced to dance around two catfights and duck under a hurtling coffee pot. Myka slipped around the outskirts of the brawl to slide in position behind the doctor. Pete grabbed his shoulders and attention, loudly asking him if he was alright and demanding to know what was happening, while Myka deftly slid her purple-gloved hand in to the doctor’s pocket.

“What has gotten into these people?” Dr. Wahrheit’s eyes were wild as they darted around the destruction, just missing Myka as she ducked into a corner, prize in hand.

“Honesty?” Pet shrugged before he turned away from him in search of his partner.

Pete produced a silver bag, and Myka was quick to throw the watch into its depths. A riotous explosion of bright blue sparks erupted for a moment before they could conceal it from the mob around them.

The resulting silence was deafening. They slowly turned around and found a sea of confused faces. Heads fell into hands, and more than one person collapsed into chairs. Myka felt herself returning to her body as her memory of the morning burned away like haze.

A dozen versions of the same question began to echo around the diner, “What the hell happened?” The fear and confusion and embarrassment were palpable in the air.

“Uh,” Pete and Myka exchanged a quick glance, “Bad mushrooms?”

_____

It was eight in the morning when their plane landed at the small airport in Univile, and another forty minutes still until they reached the B&B that had been their home for the last three years. Myka had spent the vast majority of their trip trying to apologize for the things she said. She was a bit fuzzy on the details, but knew she had been rather harsh on her partner.

Pete, as good natured as always, just shrugged and told her not to worry about it. Afterall, they had decided long ago that their team would never hold anything against someone who had been whammied by an artifact. He was more intent on getting Myka’s opinion on proposal techniques.

“Pete, honestly I am the last person who should be giving you advice on this.” She complained.

“But your opinion is the only one that matters to me,” his lip stuck out slightly, but Myka continued to stare out the windshield and missed it.

They continued the drive home in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as the miles slipped away. Before either had thought of something to say, they found themselves in front of a large, familiar house.

Amanda’s car was waiting for them in the drive way when they pulled up. Myka and Pete sat in silence staring at it for a long moment. Amanda been out of town more often than the agents were, ever since she became the rising star, hotshot lawyer for some huge company. Being so successful so young meant she had to do actual work. She had made herself invaluable to her bosses, however, so they also gave her a lot of leeway to work from home when it was possible.

“I think you should ask her.” Myka looked at him, finally breaking the silence.

“Really?” His eyebrows turned up as he searched his best friend’s face for any hint of falsehood.

“Yeah, I like Amanda. And you two have been through so much together…” Myka trailed off for a moment, “You two are perfect for each other. And she loves you. If you guys could make it through everything that’s happened to us over the last few years, you can make it through anything.”

“Thanks, Mykes.” Pete’s face broke into his trade mark boyish grin as they stepped out of the SUV. With a deep breath to steady himself, he threw the door open, “Lucy! I’m home!”

Amanda stood dumbstruck in the hallway for a moment. Myka watched as her face lit with joy as she sighed her boyfriend’s name, dropped her folders and rushed to hug him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Pete laughed as he lifted her slightly off the ground and kissed her deeply.

Myka smiled before she slid around them and went up the stairs two at a time. She threw her overnight bag through her open bedroom door without stopping, then hurried down the hall to Helena’s closed door. They hadn’t told anyone that they planned to head back right after neutralizing the watch. They took the redeye to get home as soon as possible, and Myka was looking forward to spending quality time with her girlfriend.

That hope was shattered, however, when Myka opened the door to said girlfriend’s room and found her suitcase open on the bed, already half-filled with clothes and toiletries.

Helena had her back to the door as she rifled through the drawers of a dresser with several limp shirts already hanging from its sides, “Where the bloody hell is it?” she groaned as she began to throw things without regard onto the floor.

Despite her growing disappointment, Myka had to smile as she knocked on the threshold, “Hey beautiful, whatcha lookin’ for?”

Helena spun around, her hand flew up to grip the locket that hung around her throat as her eyes fell on Myka’s smirking face, “Myka, you’re home.”

After a moment, they rushed together in four strides. Helena’s lips pressed tightly against Myka’s for a searing kiss that left them both breathless and aching for more. They pulled away from each other only as much as was necessary to catch a breath of air, foreheads resting against one another.

“I missed you.” Myka admitted. It wasn’t the longest they’d been away from one another, but they both felt the absence acutely with each separation.

“And I you, my love.” Helena slowly traced her thumb over Myka’s cheekbone.

“Are you really leaving?” Myka asked, her head tilted as her attention was freed to wander once more to the suitcase on the bed.

“Unfortunately,” Helena growled, her eyes rolled as she gripped Myka all the tighter, “Arthur has ordered Steve and I to be on a plane to London in,” she glanced down at her watch, “An hour. If we leave now and I drive us, we might just make it on time… but I can’t seem to find my passport.”

“It’s in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” Myka shook her head, “Why are you guys going to London?”

“What’s it doing in there?” Helena demanded as she begrudgingly released Myka and moved around her to get to the bathroom.

“You put it in there.” Myka chuckled as she shouted after her.

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do,” Helena argued back, as she did indeed find her passport on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet, “It makes no sense to put it in here!”

“That’s why you did it,” Myka laughed at Helena’s scowl, “You wanted to put it somewhere ridiculous so you would remember where it was. It was after the last time Steve had to change your flight because you couldn’t find it.”

“Well, that didn’t seem to work.” She mumbled, walking back to her suitcase and zipping it up with a sigh.

“I can’t believe you’re being called away on a case,” Myka felt her bottom lip pout, “I just got back!” Myka hoped being a little over dramatic hid her true sadness.

“I know, darling,” Helena put a hand on either side of Myka’s face, smiling softly, “I devoutly wish it weren’t the case, but I shall make quick work of this curiosity and hurry home to you. I promise.”

“Okay,” Myka agreed, holding on to her adorable pout until Helena laughed and kissed her.

“HG, are you ready yet?” Steve stood awkwardly in the doorway, bag slung over his shoulder as he bounced form one foot to the other, “Artie told me to tell you that if we miss another flight, we’ll be stuck doing inventory for a month. Come on!”

“Give me a minute, Steve,” Helena nodded, “I’m nearly done.”

Steve’s face wrinkled as he retreaded when Helena and Myka descended once more into kisses and giggles.

“Why does Artie enjoy picking on you so much?” Myka smiled, referring to the senior agent’s attitude towards HG most days. It was quite confusing, considering how she had been one of his favorite students back in Fairview.

“I don’t think he’s quite forgiven me for killing his partner.” Helena’s eyes flashed darkly.

If put through it again, there was nothing Helena would have done differently when dealing with James MacPherson. The man had been insane and dangerous. The plans he had for the artifacts housed in the Warehouse would have sent the world into an apocalypse. Not to mention his attempt to rid himself of one particular, nosy group of college kids in a permanent fashion. Still, Helena did feel a sharp pang when reminded she had taken a life.

“Hey, come back to me.” It was Myka’s turn to grab HG’s face softly between her hands, forcing her to maintain eye contact, “Don’t forget, you saved me, and most likely hundreds of other people when you pulled that trigger. Artie knows that.”

“Right,” HG nodded, and Myka could see the topic was closed to further discussion, “I have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” Myka kissed Helena once more, “Be safe.”

“I shall try my hardest.” Helena rolled her eyes good-naturedly before grabbing her bag and walking out, she stopped at the door, “I love you, Myka.”

Myka beamed, “I love you, too.”

They would never grow tired of being able to say those words out loud to each other.

LINE BREAK

Flying coach in the small plane had hardly comfortable, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep over the past few days, so Myka decided to sleep away the rest of the morning. She buried her face into Helena’s pillow and had a few peaceful hours.

Myka felt rested and happy when she woke in time to go pick up Christina from school. She had missed her little girl as much as she had missed Helena. The day Myka had signed the papers and made the adoption official had been the happiest day of her life. She hadn’t known it was possible to love anyone as much as she loved Christina. Not even Helena held the place of honor in her heart any longer.

The day was warm, and Myka closed her eyes against the sun as she leaned on the hood of her car, enjoying the slight breeze and the silence that could only be found in a sleepy little town like Univille.

It had its quirks, that was for sure, but Univille had quickly become home for Myka. She knew her neighbors, the winding streets and every mom-and-pop shop. The town lived in a quiet, predictable routine, a slice of comforting familiarity in the agent’s tumultuous life.

The sound of a ringing bell signaled the end of another school day echoed out across the elementary school campus, and Myka opened her eyes and looked around expectantly. An excited smile began to spread across her face as a wave of children exploded from closed doors.

There was a confusion of children rushing around, moving to their parents, for the buses, for the after-school program. But there was no familiar head of bouncing, black curls in that sea of madness. Myka chewed on her lip, worried when Christina hadn’t come bounding out to greet her after a few moments.

Myka was sure that anyone who picked Christina up from school, whether it be either of her mothers or any other member of the Warehouse team, they all parked in the same exact spot every day. That way Christina would always know where to find them. But the kids had begun to thin out, and still there was no over-exuberant child running to greet her.

Just as Myka was about to give in to her paranoia and head for the front office, a small girl, black curly hair pulled back in a high ponytail, wearing grass-stained jeans and a sky-blue shirt. Her worn leather messenger bag was thrown over one dejected shoulder as she slowly came walking towards Myka. Christina kept her head bent low, watching the ground, not looking up until she was ten feet away.

Myka’s worry, which had evaporated upon seeing her adopted daughter, now came back with a vengeance. It was obvious to Myka that something was wrong with Christina.

When the seven-year-old finally looked up, her eyes widened in surprise before she broke into a huge grin. She ran the final distance, jumping into Myka’s waiting arms. Myka huffed out a laugh as she lifted Christina up, holding tightly until Christina put her legs around Myka’s back. Christina was getting a little big to still be doing this, Myka knew, but if she were honest, she enjoyed it just as much as the girl.

“Mom!” Christina cheered, locking her arms around Myka’s neck and burying her face in her curls.

“Hey, kiddo,” Myka chuckled as she rubbed her back.

Christina pulled back slightly until she was able to look into Myka’s eyes, “I thought Mummy was picking me up from school today?”

“Oh, she really wanted to, but she got called away on a case this morning. I just flew home today and I couldn’t _wait_ to see you.” Myka smiled.

“Was it a really tough case?” Christina asked, she had noticed there was something off about her American mother’s smile.

Myka shrugged, “A little bit, but I am far more interested in what you’ve been doing for the last three days.” She set Christina down gently, not letting go until both feet were firmly on the ground.

“Well,” Christina’s forlorn expression returned to her face an she had become suddenly very interested in her shoes, “Actually, Mrs. Thornton would like to talk to you.”

“Your teacher?” Myka knelt in front of her, “Why, what happened?”

“I got in trouble in class today, and she wants to talk to you about it.” Christina sounded angry as she spoke. Her eyes were filled with childhood rage, but it was echoed with fear and sadness.

Myka was shocked. Christina, while a handful at home and around the Warehouse, never got into trouble at school or her friends’ houses. She was always on her best behavior, and the teachers at the school as well as other kids’ parents loved her.

“Okay, let’s go talk to Mrs. Thornton,” Myka held her hand out for Christina’s.

The girl took it, but kept her head down as they walked back to room 23. Christina stopped at the doorway and refused to move when Myka tugged slightly, “She wants to talk to _just_ you.” Christina replied when Myka asked what was wrong.

“Alright then,” Myka looked up and down the deserted hallway, “Sit right here and read your book while I go in, okay?” Myka kissed her forehead, smoothing back her ponytail with one absentminded hand, “I’ll be right back.”

Myka stepped into the chilly room. She gave the room a cursory survey, looking around at the student’s works on the walls, to the giant map in the corner, the wall of computers and the wall of bookshelves. The majority of the space in the room was taken up by the student’s desks. It was easy enough to find Christina’s seat near the door, her name tag was written in beautiful cursive while its neighbors had heavy block lettering. 

Early in the year, Helena had received an email form the teacher. Christina had been moved to the back of the classroom. Mrs. Thornton had believed that if she moved her smartest student to the back of the class, it would give some of the other students a chance to raise their hands in class. Having been the smartest kid in class once, Myka doubted the success of the gesture.

“Mrs. Thornton?” Myka greeted as soon as her eyes fell on the woman sitting at her desk, her back turned to the white board with the night’s homework written in big loopy letters.

Linda Thornton was middle-aged, petite and correct. She had curly red hair and teal tortoiseshell glasses. Her red lips pulled back in a tight smile when her eyes lifted to the parent standing awkwardly in her classroom.

“Ah, you must be Mrs. Wells, please, have a seat,” she gestured to the desk directly in front of hers, “I’m just finishing up these grades.”

“Thanks,” Myka nodded as she made her way up the aisle, “And it’s Miss Bering, actually _._ But, just Myka, if you prefer.”

“My apologies,” Mrs. Thornton nodded as she removed her glasses for a moment, “The end of the year is such a crazy time for us teachers, and this is the first time I’m seeing you. I just assumed… I’m waiting for a student’s mother, so if you could-,”

“Christina Wells, right?” Myka nodded as she sat in the small plastic chair, “That’s who I’m here to talk about.”

“I’m sorry, I can only speak with one of Christina’s parents,” Mrs. Thornton’s smile turned cold and condescending, “You understand, information about our students is confidential. So, If I could get Mrs. or Mr. Wells to-,”

“I am Christina’s mother,” Myka interrupted. “Or at least one of them.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” the teacher tilted her head, her face spasmed for a moment as she looked at Myka.

“Helena Wells is Christina’s biological mother.” Myka explained. There was a feeling of foreboding growing in her gut, but Myka pushed through it, “I am _Miss_ Wells’ partner.”

Mrs. Thornton straightened in her chair as if she had been electrocuted, “Right,” her face twitched strangely, and she took a moment to put her glasses back on, “Be that as it may, Miss Bering, I still need a parent to talk to me about Christina’s behavior, not her,” she waved vaguely at Myka.

“ _Mom_ ,” Myka felt her face grow hot as her hands tightened into fists beneath the desk top, “You may check with the office if you need to. You’ll find that I have shared legal custody of Christina, as I have for years. I _am_ Christina’s mom, so you will talk to me.” She was working hard to keep her voice even, her tone neutral.

“Fine,” Mrs. Thornton spat out, “I need to speak with you about this,” she put a strange looking object on her desk, close enough so that Myka could grab it herself without the teacher having to hand it to her.

Myka suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she leaned forward to retrieve the object. She turned it over in her hands, examining it closely. It was made of popsicle sticks, paper clips, pipe cleaners and glue, everything to make the main body and levers and gears were all things that could be found in an arts and crafts drawer. It was decorated with unicorn stickers and a purple marker.

“What is this?” Myka asked, half impressed and half confused. Without really thinking, she pulled the hair tie from around her wrist. She hooked it on the top notch of the end of the thing pointing away from her, she pulled it back to hook on another latch.

She aimed at the wall furthest from her, for the cut out “O” in Spelling Words, pushed down on one of the jutting out popsicle stick ends, and the rubber band shot forward with incredible speed and accuracy. It hit the middle of the circle dead on before it disappeared to the floor.

“Whoa,” She looked down at the strange contraption as the shape of its body began to make sese. Myka found that it had enough room to hold six rubber bands, and could be adjusted to shoot one after the other rapidly, or all at once.

“Your… _Christina,_ ” Mrs. Thornton corrected herself, “Made that in arts and crafts hour before using it on the playground on another student.”

“Christina made this?” Myka felt her chest swell with pride as she tried her hardest to hide her smirk.

Mrs. Thornton scowled, the expression made her look much older than her thirty-five years, “Yes, and I wanted to talk to her parents about it. I was hoping to try and figure out what could make her do such a thing, to see if we could work together and correct it. But now I think I know what the cause is.”

“What’s that?” Myka turned cold eyes on the teacher, daring her to say the words Myka just _knew_ she was about to.

“I don’t think Christina has a very stable home life, and that _confusion_ she must be feeling is causing her to act out.” Mrs. Thornton crossed her arms over her chest.

“Are you insinuating that because Christina has two mothers she’s a bad kid?” Myka rose form her chair as her protective-mama-bear mode, as Pete called it, took over.

“All I’m saying, Miss Bering,” Mrs. Thornton smirked as she too stood, leaning her hands on her desk, “Is that perhaps if Christina had a mother and a _father_ she would actually receive the structure she needs to go through life.”

“Let me tell you something, bitch,” Myka bit out the curse harshly before she could stop herself, and Mrs. Thornton took it like a slap to the face, but Myka didn’t really care, “My daughter is the smartest student in this class, you and I both know that. She has an A in _every_ subject, as she has since kindergarten. She has friends and gets along with her peers. She is _normally_ well behaved. So I’m forced to think that the case is that you _don’t_ really have a problem with my daughter, it’s me you have an issue with. Because I’m in a lesbian relationship. Oh, my goodness! Heaven _forbid_ that a child grows up in a loving environment with two parents who love her unconditionally. No, not if it means that it’s not a heteronormative couple!”

Mrs. Thornton’s face was turning an unhealthy shade of purple, but when she opened her mouth, Myka continued on her soliloquy, “No, I am not done, Mrs. Thornton. Since you are so concerned with my daughter’s home life, I’ll tell you that she has both her mothers, two uncles and an aunt, as well as three others who are there for her whenever she needs it. And she never wants for _anything_ because whatever she needs, we can provide for her. So, before you go and stick your nose in my yard and judge me and my life, I suggest you take into account that my sister-in-law is a lawyer,” Myka turned on her heel, “And you should expect to hear from her.”

Myka shoved the crossbow into her bag and stormed out of the classroom, breathing heavily. Christina was waiting where Myka left her, a look of shock on her face.

“Are you alright, Mom?” she asked timidly.

“Yeah, kiddo,” Myka took a breath and smiled as she tried to appear calm in front of her, “Come on, I’ve got to go talk to your principal, and then I am going to take you out for ice cream. How’s that sound?”

“Alright,” Christina nodded still unsure, but now excited for a treat.

Myka took her hand and smiled warmly down at her.

It was a quick conversation with the principal, one that held thinly veiled threats and ended with Christina being moved into the other second grade class for the last moth of school.

At their favorite diner in town, Christina and Myka sat at their usual booth sharing a giant Sunday as Christina explained her invention. She had created the rubber band shooter months ago to help her friends against school yard bullying.

She explained in a rather devious way that she had only been forced to use it twice before the bullies learned to never bother anyone. The threat alone of the quarter sized welts her rubber bands caused was enough to put a stop to it. She said she read that the best policy on war was to carry a big stick and speak in a soft voice.

Myka made a note to start screening what Christina read.

Today was the first day she had used it against someone who was picking on her, and for that she felt extremely guilty. She had only ever used it for other kids before, but the other kid was a sixth grader, and he was making fun of her.

It took Myka a few minutes to get Christina to tell her what they were picking on her for, and the answer nearly broke her heart. She had been defending her family. She had been defending Myka. 

Myka wasn’t so sure about small town charm anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.” – Theodore Roosevelt.


	3. Leather Apron

Helena had been selling the patens to her inventions for years. The money had gone a long way to keep her and her family comfortable while she finished her doctorate. Something she had learned very early on was that she could get more than money if she played her cards right. One of the many perks that came with being the mind behind some of the most revolutionary inventions over the last four years was a growing list of favors.

As it happened, many of the powerful men who owned the companies she worked with didn’t want their consumers or shareholders to know some random undergraduate was responsible for their best products. Helena had learned that she could get almost anything she needed from them with a perfectly timed phone call or unexpected office visit.

Lucky for her, this included being able to “borrow” a certain company’s private jet to go overseas when the curiosities came calling. Even with such allowances, she only had use of it for so long. Which lead to a few hasty exits, preventing Helena from having the chance to properly greet her girlfriend.

Helena found she was much more comfortable flying in a private jet rather than in a commercial airliner. It had given her the chance to get to know the pilots who flew her, and they had taken the time to explain much of what they did to her. Knowing how the planes worked and all the different failsafe they were equipped with put some of her anxieties at ease. Now flying was almost relaxing for her.

The knowledge that they were flying to London, however, came with its own apprehensions.

It was supposed to be like going back home, wasn’t it? After all, she had spent the first eighteen years of her life in London. So why was she dreading setting foot there? Why did she feel every devoured mile in her pounding heart?

Perhaps, because after the last time, she swore she would never go back. She had been drowning in heart break and grief, and brought it back to California with her. True, she had also brought Christina to the states with her, and even gained full custody in the end. So she couldn’t bring herself to quite regret it, but neither could she convince herself that her homecoming was something she ever wanted.

Her mind wandered as the plane continued to trail through the clouds. Did wishing she wouldn’t have time see her parents make her a bad daughter? Perhaps, she hoped, she could escape London unscathed by the disappointed looks she was sure to receive from her mother, and the painfully indifferent silence from her father. The only family member she truly missed was Charles, but he came as a package deal with his shrew of a wife who was still bitter in her childless home.

“Have you looked over the case file yet?” Steve’s voice reached out for Helena, pulling her from her quiet musings, “I mean, not that anyone should have to look at these photos…”

HG looked up at her partner. Steve had begun to look a little green around the edges as he slowly pushed the file further away from him on the table between them.

“Arthur hadn’t been very informative when he told us we needed to go to London,” she leaned forward to take the offending manila folder, “Then he grumbled something I chose to ignore before shoving us out the door….”

Helena trailed off when a glossy photo came loose from the stack. It drifted face down into her lap, demanding to be seen. HG felt her breakfast try and make a second appearance. She fought against the urge by breathing sharply through her nose and briefly closing her eyes.

Helena was good at compartmentalizing the insanity she was subjected to on a daily basis. With work, she could distance herself from many of the horrors that came at the wrong end of an artifact. But the nightmare held in one small photograph… She hadn’t had any warning.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed with the look on HG’s face as she paled.

“Arthur didn’t… he didn’t tell us about this, right? I wasn’t just ignoring him?” Helena worked on centering herself, on _separating_ herself from the scene in the photograph. She refused to put it back down just yet. The woman pictured deserved the effort it took to look upon her ruined body.

“Maybe he thought that we wouldn’t go if we knew what was waiting.” Steve offered with a shake of his head.

“You’re an awful liar, Steven,” Helena rolled her eyes, trying to grasp for something that resembled normalcy. She and Steve had formed a comfortable partnership over the years, she needed that now to ground herself, “You and I both know we would have flown to London regardless of the… _nature_ of this particular artifact. Perhaps even because of it. Arthur didn’t tell us because he didn’t want to give them a chance to stop us.”

“And by _them_ you mean Myka.” Jinks’ hand twitched for his Farnsworth as it was, wanting to vent his irritation and fear to his best friend, but not wanting to worry her needlessly.

“Claudia, too.” HG chuckled, noticing the battle of wills on his face, “I swear it’s like she has that grumpy old man wrapped around her finger. She would have torn him a new one sending us out there for this. And Peter would have been peevish at not being sent on the adventure.”

“Someone has to do it though,” Steve argued, more with himself than HG, “He probably would have sent Myka and Pete if they hadn’t still been after the pocket watch when the call came in.”

Sickness rolled through HG once more, this time at the thought of Myka being sent after this particular curiosity in her stead, “You’ll excuse me for being glad that we were sent on this retrieval rather than her. Though she won’t be too happy when she learns what it is we’re after.”

“Do you think she and Pete will be jealous that they didn’t get picked to go after Jack the Ripper’s scalpel?” Steve tried for a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his wide, blue eyes.

“Undoubtedly,” Helena agreed lightheartedly, but they both knew Myka’s anger was going to take casualties when she learned the truth.

Helena spent the next hour studying the contents of the case file, cover to cover. She found herself coveting, and not for the first time, her girlfriend’s speed-reading abilities as well as her infallible memory.

“At least it seems they already have the monster in custody,” Helena breathed a sigh that wasn’t quite relief. It was difficult to feel relieved when looking at the four women who hadn’t been so lucky, laying bare and eviscerated for the world to gawk upon, “The hard part is already done and over with.”

“We just have to get to the scalpel before anyone else accidently touches it.” Steve leaned back in his seat, trying to calm his racing thoughts and the anxiety that was bubbling in him.

Helena and Steve had been sent on their fair share of dangerous artifact retrievals, before and after officially joining the Warehouse. Even so, there was something about being so far away from their back up, _their friends_ , that made this trip feel more menacing. And not one member of their team, at least not yet, knew of their mission.

Ever since their college years, the most dangerous artifact retrievals had been done with the help of both teams, not to mention Artie and Claudia. Helena felt like this was some sort of test Arthur was giving her. What he hoped to learn was beyond HG’s imaginings, but his gaze was felt none the less.

It wasn’t only Arthur’s eye on her, Helena knew they all watched her warily. That cold day in the barn, everyone had caught a glimpse of the darkness that spun just below the surface. They had all seen what happened to Helena’s calm, picturesque features when she or someone she loved was threatened. They knew her secret now, that she was capable of terrible things, and perhaps they couldn’t trust her as much as they needed to.

Helping MacPherson, even just as a ruse to get close to the man and ultimately find Walter Sykes, had planted a seed of doubt. His death at Helena’s hand had watered it. And HG could just see the wheels of Artie’s mind turning when he thought about how she had killed the man before he was given a chance to explain himself to anybody.

Well, anybody besides the woman who killed him and the woman who loved her.

Years had passed, and yet Helena still woke from formless nightmares. She knew she would carry the guilt of her actions for the rest of her life. But even so, she could not find it in her to regret saving Myka’s life.

She wondered if she would ever earn their trust again.

It was three in the morning when they finally found themselves in a taxi, headed towards the Bishopsgate police station. Despite being on a plane for nearly eight hours, both agents found themselves completely wired and ready for anything.

For want of something to keep themselves distracted, they practiced their plan over and over until they exited the vehicle a block away from the station. They had their badges on them, the ones that labeled them as US Marshals, but that gave them no pull this far outside their jurisdiction. They only hoped that the little act they were about to put on would work to get them in.

They entered the bleak, grey, box of building. It seemed to be deserted at that late hour, save for one dozing officer with his feet propped up on the reception desk. Helena quirked an eyebrow at her partner and he gave a shrug in return. Perhaps this would to be easier than they had expected.

HG nodded her head for a back door before she stepped up to the counter. Steve took the hint and quickly slunk away for the door while she rapped her knuckles on the wood. Helena put on her most charming smile as she leaned forward on her elbows.

The man startled suddenly, nearly falling backwards from his seat, “What in god’s name…” he trailed off as he fixed his wrinkled shirt. His movements halted when he found a beautiful woman smiling down at him. He quickly wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, feeling the drool there and he hoped his mustache had hidden the worst of it.

“Hello there, Officer.” HG greeted easily.

“Hi,” his voice squeaked out higher than he meant, and he quickly cleared his throat before trying again with a gruffer tone, “How-how may I help you, miss?”

“Are we having a slow night?” she rose an eyebrow before glancing over her shoulder to the empty room around them. She kept her tone light and conversational, the last thing she wanted to do was prick his pride.

“A bit, strangely enough. Everything has been nice and quiet now that we’ve caught that monster,” he sat taller in the chair as her dark eyes trailed over him. His chest puffed out as he preened.

“Ah, yes, I did hear that your station apprehended that tasteless copycat,” HG fed into his ego before she turned that smile into a pensive frown, “Will our city ever be out of the shadow of that mad man?”

“There will always be those sots who worship old Jack. We can only hope catching this rat will help to wash that particular bloodstain from the streets.” He nodded ponderously, trying not to be obvious about ogling her. Though, with one too few buttons done up on her shirt, her was finding it difficult to tear his eyes away.

“Well, I for one am glad to know that we have fine officers such as yourself keeping us all safe,” Helena smiled, watching as her words made him almost vibrate with pleasure, “Speaking of which, I would expect this place to be teaming with activity. What with the slasher having been caught here.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaning ever more forward, causing him to do the same, “Where are our conquering heroes and the adoring press?”

“Oh, Scotland Yard came and scooped him up as soon as we had him secure.” He assured her, “Most of the officers involved followed them out to finish their reports and get their five minutes of fame. In the morning we’ll move all the evidence there as well. Not that it’s necessary, the boy all but confessed to all four murders.”

“Wow, you really are fantastic.” HG dropped her voice, and the man flushed at the sound.

“We’re just doing our job, ma’am,” His voice rung with undeserved arrogance as he rose until they were eye level with each other, “Now, was there something I could help you with?”

“Yes, actually,” HG amended the plans in her head, “I had quite the scare a while back when some… delinquents broke into my home. I was told that the evidence was booked here when they caught the lads, and I was wondering if it had been processed yet? They said they were able to recover my mother’s ring, and I’ll just be heartbroken if I can’t get it back as soon as possible.”

“Well, with all the insanity of the last few months, I doubt it’s been properly filed.” He gave a conspiratorial wink, “But I shall go back and check for you.” He began to step back from the desk.

“Wait,” Helena called, working to keep her voice calm and level, “Do you mind if I head back with you? I’ve actually always been quite curious about police work, and seeing as you’re not too busy, perhaps,” she smiled slowly at him once more, “Perhaps you can give me a private tour of the station?”

“Oh, o-of course.” He stammered, “Right this way…”

He put a hand just beneath her shoulder blades and led her through the door Steve had disappeared through moments before. Helena sent up a quick prayer that Steve had been quick in his search.

“Let’s check in on your property first, shall we?” He took her down a long corridor.

“Of course,” she slowly began reaching behind her, an inch at a time so as not to be noticed.

“That’s strange,” He frowned as they approached the door at the end. They found it slightly ajar, an empty folder keeping the latch from engaging, “This door’s not supposed to be left open…” he pushed the door open further.

Steve was the very picture of a deer caught in the headlights. He stood surrounded by a pile of boxes, and had been trying to read the messy handwriting on some forms when the door swung open. He froze as the officer shouted out at him.

“Hey! Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded as he took a protective stance in front of HG.

“Um,” Steve scrambled for something to say, “Uh,” His tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth.

The thought of lying seemed to short his brain. Luckily, the effort turned out to be unnecessary. The man’s body convulsed violently for a moment before falling in a heap on the floor, revealing HG pointing a tesla in front of her.

“Sorry about that.” She stepped over the snoring officer to a stunned looking Steve, “Did you find it?”

“Huh?” he blinked at Helena’s quizzical expression as he waited for his brain to reboot, “Yeah, yeah, I finally found the box and then you brought Officer Duddly in here.” He glared at her, “What happened to the plan?”

“It required amending,” she rolled her eyes, “Are you quite finished? I’d like to stay in this town strictly as long as is absolutely necessary.”

He donned the purple gloves and whipped out a static bag to be ready as HG sifted through the evidence box.

“Here we are,” she carefully lifted the antique scalpel from the box.

Helena thought the discoloration was rust, but as she turned it in her hand, it came away in flakes and she realized it was dried blood. Her heart lurched and she spun to her waiting partner. Gratefully, she threw the cursed object into the waiting bag.

They ducked as sparks snaked out over head.

“The replica?” HG asked after the reaction settled, “I don’t want this man to get off because a key piece of evidence has turned up missing.” She grumbled.

“I got it right here,” Steve pulled out the replacement weapon as well as the amended report on it.

HG took both and began to file them away with the rest of the evidence.

“Help me put this back in the proper order, will you?” She gestured to the mess Steve had created.

They began to work together quickly, until Helena’s normally sure hands stuttered to a halt. A name printed at the top of one file jumped out at her. Her jaw dropped and the bagged curiosity fell from her hand. She held the contents of the folder close to her face and demanded they make sense.

“HG?” Steve waved a slow hand in front of her, “You alive in there?”

Her eyes flashed in what looked like fear and panic. Without a word, she dropped the folder on the floor, papers scattered everywhere. She didn’t stop to comment or explain, she only ran out of the room, artifact and mission temporarily forgotten. Steve scrambled to follow her, how she always managed to out run him in her heels, he would never understand.

HG was a woman possessed as she made a beeline back to the front desk. She yanked drawers open and slammed them shut, one after the other, until finally she found a directory. She threw it down on the desk and began to pour through it. It was only for a moment before she resumed her frantic sprinting, back down the hall Steve had just emerged from. Steve groaned and picked up his pace.

She led them down a few more halls, up a flight of stairs, and through another abandoned corridor before she came to a stumbling stop at what was labeled as a holding room. Her chest heaved, not from exertion, but from fear.

Steve was still confused, worried for his partners sudden shift, but he didn’t stop her from pushing open the door. He gripped his tesla tightly in its holster and tensed his muscles, ready for anything. Or so he hoped.

“Look, like I told you lot a hundred times, I had nothing-,” the voice that came drifting from the room, male, exhaustion laden, cut off suddenly, “HG?”

Steve stepped forward, looking through the door. A man, clad in a blue and white striped shirt and ill-fitting jeans, with cuffed hands held in front of him as he stood behind a simple table. His brown hair seemed to be darkened, clumped together oddly in some areas. He had a bandage wrapped around his arm, and a haunted look in his wide eyes.

“Wolly.” Helena breathed, rushing forward to gather the man in a crushing hug.

_____

It was just past ten pm in Univille, and Myka had finally gotten Christina to fall asleep. Worry for her birthmother, guilt over the day’s activity, and sensing the stress that was rolling off her American mother in waves, had been too much for her small body to handle. It had turned her stomach to rot, and she didn’t want to close her eyes.

After four stories and ten minutes of quiet humming as Myka trailed her fingers through her adoptive daughter’s curls, Christina began to snore softly.

Myka quietly made her way down the stairs to the living room, most of the occupants of the B&B were still awake, sitting downstairs together for a while as they normally did before bed.

Pete and Claudia were playing some shooting game on the television laying on their stomachs, shoving each other playfully as they exchanged quite banter. Amanda had some case files spread out on the coffee table, sighing heavily every few moments as she moved a red pen over the pages. Joshua was scribbling madly away in a notebook, to Myka it looked as if he wasn’t even stopping to breathe until it was absolutely necessary. Abigale was studying a chessboard intently, finger tapping her chin as her head tilted this way and that, humming quietly to herself. Leena sat on the couch, feet tucked up underneath her, a large book in her lap keeping most of her attention.

Myka smiled at the sight. Warmth flowed through her veins at the thought of at how well they had settled into life here. Their broken little family was still running strong. She frowned though once she found her eyes searching for the missing pieces, knowing she wouldn’t find them.

“Okay,” Myka announced her presence suddenly with a clap, she needed to distract herself from the longing thoughts, “I have held it in all day for the sake of the kid, but now I need to vent to people my own age so that I don’t snap.”

Leena marked her book with her finger, Abigale put down the piece she had only just grasped, Amanda capped the pen before sticking it behind her ear, Josh held up one finger, asking for a moment, while Pete swore at the tv screen until Claudia pressed pause.

Myka took a deep breath once she had most of their attention, “Christina’s teacher wanted to talk to one of her parents, so I went in but she said no she needed her _real_ parents, and when I told her I had custody of Christina, she got all bigoted and blamed Christina’s actions today in school on having two mothers and no father figure around to make her home life stable.”

She had their full attention now. The silence hung thickly as each of Christina’s family members slowly made sense of Myka’s rushed words.

Claudia’s tablet was in her hand before anyone even knew she had it near her, “Just out of curiosity, what is this teacher’s name?”

“I’ll go make some coca,” Leena rose from the chair.

“I’d like something stronger,” Myka mumbled as she began pacing back and forth.

“Okay, start from the beginning.” Pete shook his head as he rolled into a sitting position, turning his back to the siren call of video games.

Without stopping her strides, Myka went on to recount for them what Christina had gotten in trouble for, and how her meeting with the teacher had gone. The other agents slowly grew indignant alongside her. Amanda and Pete had stood to pace alongside her. The whole warehouse family were a tad overly protective where all things Christina were concerned. That coupled with Myka’s own anger rubbing off on them had risen their collective hackles.

They had enough distance from the situation to know that riling Myka up further would do no one any good. They all looked to one another for help calming her temper, now that it had been released once more.

“Okay,” Amanda spoke first, stopping in her strides in front of Myka, “I’ll see what I can do to bring civil charges against the teacher, maybe even the school district, if that’s what you want. The union is strong here, but I don’t see them moving quickly to defend a homophobic teacher.”

“I don’t know…” Myka collapsed into the couch, rubbing her palms into her eyes, “Part of me wants to take that teacher down, and part of me wants to let it go. I mean, what did we really expect in a small town?”

Claudia was still tapping madly away on her tablet, when her phone when it buzzed obnoxiously with a message from Steve, “Well, this should cheer you up. Apparently HG and Steve got the artifact in record time, and are working on heading back now. They should be at the airstrip at nine.”

“That was quick,” Pete looked at his partner, confusion spilling into his features.

It wasn’t as if he thought of him and Myka as a better team than Steve and HG, even his pride didn’t extend that far. But it was strange to have them be shipped out and pick up the artifact in less than an hour. He could see his confusion echoed in her face, but it was greatly overshadowed by the beginnings of excitement.

Claudia nodded, “I’ll see if I can get a few more details out of him.” She pulled a Farnsworth off the end table as she rose to her feet.

“See Mykes?” Pete shook his head and let a smile spread over his face instead, “Your lady will be home soon, and then she can go all crazy momma bear with you on that school. You know Amanda and Claudia will help, me and Steve can be the muscle… Hey, that can be this week’s family activity!”

“Thanks Pete.” Myka rolled her eyes, but fought a smile. She was glad to hear that Helena would be home soon. She always knew how to calm Myka’s anger, even when she was the root of the anger.

“WHAT DO YOU _MEAN_ JACK THE RIPPER’S SCALPEL!?” Claudia’s voice drifted into the living room from the kitchen.

Myka’s first instinct was to hush the girl, Christina wasn’t a super deep sleeper and it had taken so long to get her to fall asleep, but then the words sunk in. She was on her feet at once, taking long strides to reach the fuming redhead.

“I didn’t have a chance to do any research on a scalpel! What if you- what if-,” the techie had started to freak out a little, one hand pulling at the purple-dyed ends of her hair.

Myka took the Farnsworth out of clenched hand, the grainy image of Steve Jinks looked out at her, a worried expression cemented on his face.

“What happened?” Myka demanded sharply.

“What? Nothing, nothing,” Steve was quick to assure her, but there was something off about his voice, and while Myka didn’t have his skills, she knew he was lying to her.

“Steven,” Her voice was dangerous, and Steve shrunk back in the screen, “Where’s HG?”

“Calm down, darling,” the image in her hands tilted sideways until she could see Helena, “I’m right here. All is well, the scalpel has been snagged and bagged. It was at the police department in the evidence room. No danger involved.”

Myka took a breath, the knot in her chest loosened, “Why did no one tell us?”

“I didn’t want you to worry needlessly,” HG bit her lip as she shifted uncomfortably, “How much trouble am I in?”

“Loads.” Myka sighed, “But… just hurry home, please. Then I can be mad, and not just worried. That artifact is really dangerous. They’ve been looking for it since Warehouse 12…”

“It’s safe and sound in the static bag,” Helena assured her, before glancing up like someone called her, “I have to go now, but I will see you in the morning.”

“I love you.” Myka said quickly, exhaustion descending upon her quickly.

“I love you too.” Helena smiled before the screen went dark.

Myka handed Claudia the Farnsworth back before trudging back upstairs, ignoring the questions that followed her. She barely had the sense to set an alarm for herself before falling into a fitful sleep.


End file.
